


Miracle

by ChelleyPam



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of an AU twist.  </p><p>Rachel didn't go to Miles.  One night something surprising shows up at the Philly gates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Is This Philadelphia?

** Four Years After the Blackout **

Pulling the night watch sucked in its own right. Pulling the night watch when it was cold and pouring down rain was a whole new level of suck.

“Maybe next time you should let the Major win,” Jared grumbled at his friend. 

“How was I to know he was such a sore loser?”

“He's an officer. We're NCOs. We shouldn't even be up here. This is stuff you stick privates with.” Jared rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them. “Dumb-ass.”

“It's only another hour until the next shift. Stop bitching.”

It wasn't like they could see anything in this rain anyway. Or could they? A lightning flash lit up the sky for a moment and Jared thought he saw a little form in the gloom, moving towards the gait that was reminiscent of those old zombie movies.

“Halt and identify yourself!”

Aaron looked at him like he was nuts. “Who are you talking to?”

“There's someone out there.”

“What? You're seeing th...” Another bolt of lightning flashed and Aaron saw it, too. A tiny, scrawny form, now standing still before the gait. It yelled something at them, but the sound was swallowed by the wind and the rain.

Jared hesitated a moment, then gave a curse under his breath. He turned to go down the stairs to the gate. “What are you doing?”

“Outside! Can't hear shit in this storm!”

Aaron sighed and followed. They opened the gate just enough to go outside, guns at the ready. The tiny figure remained in place. When they got close enough, another flash of lightening revealed a young girl, maybe eight or nine years. She was wearing clothing that was torn and worn to the point of being shredded, shoes that were about the fall apart and was caked with so much mud with leaves and twigs that she barely looked human.

Jared lowered his gun while Aaron kept a look out for anyone who may be using her for bait. “What are you doing out here, kid?”

Her teeth were chattering as she tried to speak. “Is this...Ph...Philadelphia?” 

Jared nodded. “Yeah, this is Philly. Where are you parents, Sweetheart?”

“I don't know. S...someone took them. I'm looking f...for Uncle Miles. I h...heard Dad say Uncle Miles was in Philadelphia.”

“Okay. We can check around and see if we can find him. What's your name?”

The poor thing looked half dead on her feet. “Ch...Charlotte Matheson.” Jared dropped his rifle in shock, more to catch the collapsing child than in reaction to the name.

** Monroe-Matheson HQ **

“We need to clear out the last of those raiders to the north. They're racking up too high of a body count.”

“Foster's men are near there. He's had time to rest up and resupply so he should be ready to move.”

Miles nodded. “We'll send a runner in the morning.”

“Poor bastard with that job better hope this storm breaks. Whiskey?”

“Yeah.” Miles kept studying the maps as Bass got the drinks. Things were coming together, becoming stable. It was proving to be a hard road, but they were managing to bring some order to the chaos.

A knock sounded at the door. Miles bit back a groan. It was late and he wanted to go to bed, damn it! “Come in!”

A private came in, his hair plastered to his head. “Sorry to interrupt sirs, but the night watch just came in with a child.”

“And you had to run here to tell us this, why?”

“Before she lost consciousness she told the guard she was looking for her Uncle named Miles and that her name was Charlotte Matheson, Sir.”

Miles felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “Show me.” They exited the room, going down the corridor to where the kitchens were. They heard voices and clatters before they even opened the door.

One man was holding his forearm with a towel, blood soaking into it. Four others seemed completely unable to figure out what to do. “What's going on here?”

One of the men whirled. “Sir. She woke up and got scared sir. She had a knife on her. We've been trying to get it away from her, but we didn't want to hurt her.”

Miles pushed his way past the men and saw a tiny, muddy, feral little thing crouched in a corner. Her blue eyes were blazing and she held her knife with both hands in a death grip. Her teeth were bared as though she were snarling. Shock went through him as his mind tried to register what he was seeing. He made himself focus and look closer. The rain had managed to send most of the mud into rivulets down her skin and hair. He could make out her features through the grime. She'd lost all of the baby fat she'd had before the Blackout, but it was definitely her.

“Charlie?” He kept his voice calm as he approached her slowly. He'd have to be careful. She was clearly traumatized and he didn't want to make it worse. Her eyes kept darting at all the other people in the room. “Look at me, Charlie.” Her eyes snapped to him, but he saw no definite recognition there. Still, she had come here with his name, according to the guards, so she had some knowledge of connection.

Miles slowly reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a relic from his past life. The silver chain and the dangling rectangles flashed in the lamplight, drawing the child's eyes. “Do you remember these, Charlie?” He moved closer and knelt down so she could see them clearly.

One hand came off of the knife handle, tiny fingers coming up to still the dog tags. Her voice was very soft as she read them. “Miles Matheson. U.S.M.C. United States Marine Corp.” She made the connection, a good sign. “Uncle Miles.” She looked back up at him, her expression almost heart breaking. “I found you?”

He smiled. “Yeah, Baby. You found me.” He let one knee rest on the floor. “Where are your parents, Charlie? Where are Rachel and Ben?” Behind him he heard Bass tell someone to fetch the physician and to get a bath ready.

A frown creased her forehead. “Someone was coming. Mom said to hide, but Danny wouldn't stay with me like he was supposed to and his someone else. The people took them! They took Mom and Dad and Danny!” She sniffled, her eyes tearing up. “I lost Danny, and I was supposed to look out for him! I didn't mean to lose him!”

“I know you didn't, Charlie. It's not your fault. But you made it here, to me. You're safe now.” He reached out for her slowly. She stank and there was no telling when the last time she was able to get herself truly clean had been. Or had a hot meal. Or even a full night's sleep. “Charlie, you don't need the knife anymore. Mine's much bigger and I'll use it on anyone who tries to hurt you. Will you let me have that one?”

She looked down at her hand as though not certain she should relinquish her only weapon. Then, finger by finger, she unclenched her grip and held it out to him. He passed it back to someone and reached out to pick her up. She weighed hardly nothing and he could feel the bones beneath the shreds of clothing that had been her only protection from the elements. There was what looked like a school backpack on her shoulders and he gently coaxed that off of her as well. 

“Bass?” He handed the other man the backpack and accepted a towel from someone else so he could start trying to wring the rainwater out of her Charlotte's hair as he carried her from the room to wherever her bath was set up. Behind him, Bass opened the backpack to examine the contents.


	2. Two (What? I'm too tired to be clever!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Charlie gets re-humanized while Miles and Bass learn more about how she got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, if I were super sick and twisted, this could so easily turn into a comedy.

Normally Miles wouldn't stay in the room while a nine-year-old bathed, but Charlie had gotten upset at the idea of losing sight of him if he was going to leave her with strangers. Even ones as nice as the two female privates Bass had sent for. So, instead, the Commanding General of the Monroe-Matheson Militia sat on the floor against one end of the bathtub and kept up a conversation with a child.

“How did you know where to come look for me, Charlie?”

“I heard Mom and Dad talking when I couldn't fall asleep. Mom told Dad that 'We still have your brother to worry about,' and Dad told Mom that 'Miles is in Philadelphia,' and Mom said 'Then we need to go the other way.' And my dad's brother would be my uncle, and he said his brother's name was Miles.” She paused a moment. “I think I kind of remembered you. Something about my birthday?”

“Your fifth. I was in the military then and was going to be sent to a new base so I was going to miss it. Your parents let me and Bass take you out of your pre-school for a day a couple of weeks before your actual birthday.”

“Bassss.” She drug the name out as though tasting it. “Isn't that a fish?”

One of the privates choked back a laugh. Miles couldn't blame her. “Yeah, there's a kind of fish called that, but in this case it's short for Sebastian.”

“Ooooh. I heard Mom talk about him, too. I don't think she likes him.”

“Yeah, well, Bass and I used to get into a lot of mischief.”

“General?” He looked up, his brow raised in silent acknowledgment. “I think one more round should get the rest of it.” The solider reached down and pulled the plug on the tub, allowing the water to drain away as the other coaxed Charlie to stand up and wrapped another fresh towel around her. They had already gone through two tubs of water. The private set Charlie on the lid of the toilet and used another towel to wring the water from her hair. The towels were white, and there was far less brown coming out of the hair this time around. 

Charlie reached her hand out and Miles gave her back his old dog tags. She hadn't wanted to give them up, but he managed to convince her that she needed to have her hands empty for her bath. That was okay as long as he held on to them for her. He saw Bass come to the door and motion for him to come over. 

“Charlie, that's Bass. See?” She looked at the man frankly. “I need to talk to him, but I'm just going to be in that next room. We won't even close the door so I can hear you if you need me. Is that okay?” She seemed to study Sebastian as if trying to determine if he was trustworthy or not. Bass hit her with that smile that should, by all rights, be able to power a city and made people want to follow and trust him. And, hey, it worked on nine-year-old girls, too. Who knew?

Miles got up, his shirt stained with the muck and filth Charlie had been covered in. Bass handed him a spare shirt and miles made certain to step out of sight of his niece before he stripped the dirty one off and put on the new one. “What do we got?”

“What looks like the back half of an overcooked squirrel, fire steel, if you can believe it, various nuts she probably scrounged on her way, what looks like the makings for a simple snare trap that has seen some use and this.” He held up a crumpled, pre-Blackout map. “Looks like someone marked the most direct route using the major highways from Indiana to here.”

Miles scowled as he fastened the last of the buttons. “Indiana? That's three states. There's no way a nine-year-old girl makes it that far on her own.”

“Won't know until we ask her about it.” Bass handed him the map. “The doctor's here. Want me to bring him up?”

“Yeah, we're gonna run her through one more bath and she should be done.”

“Will do.” Bass studied him a moment and then put a hand on his shoulder. “Miles, she made it. We've got her. She's safe.”

Miles nodded, patting Bass' hand in thanks before he went back into the bath. The dirt had been rinsed out and fresh, clean water filled it. Her hair was being suds up again. “Hey, Charlie. Where'd you get this?” He showed her the map. 

“It was Dad's. It was left behind when the people took him and I found it. I was trying to figure out how to get here but there were so many lines. I met a nice lady and she drew that for me,” she explained, pointing at the marked out path. “She said that if I followed that line I would get here.”

“She just let you walk off on your own?”

Charlie looked a bit guilty. “I... told her my parents were getting supplies and I was helping. She was nice, but she was a stranger.” She bit her lip a bit. “I'm sorry I lied.”

“Hey, you were being safe. No telling who she was or what kind of person she really was. That kind of lie is okay.” He pointed at the start in Indiana. “Is this where you were when she gave you directions?” She nodded. “Do you know where on this map you were when the people took your parents?” Her eyes teared a little and she shook her head. “That's all right. Do you know how many days it was between when your parents were taken and you met the lady?”

Charlie closed her eyes and seemed to be thinking hard. He'd seen Ben do that sometimes. “Fffffour days,” she opened her eyes again, “but I waited there a day first to see if they came back and then I tried to find them in the woods where we were hiding for two.”

That at least gave them an idea of where to start looking. The girls rinsed her off again, the last of the grime gone and a rosy, honey-haired angel with big blue eyes looking at him with unquestioning trust. More towels were used to wring out her hair and dry her off, and one of the girls very carefully combed the tangles out of her hair. Now that she was clean he could see the little injuries here and there. Bruises and scrapes. Some looked infected and there were sores on her feet where her shoes had been worn through.

Miles took a final dry towel and wrapped it around her before hefting her up in his arms. He carried her into the attached bathroom where Bass waited with he doctor. “Charlie, I know you're getting tired but we need you to stay awake a little while longer. This is Dr. Harris, and we want him to make sure you're all right and what we need to do to get you healthy again. Okay?”

“'kay.” 

He sat her down on the bed, her legs dangling over the side as the doctor came over. Thankfully Harris had a kindly face. Their field surgeon looked like a butcher. Great doctor, but worked over with an ugly stick some time in his past. 

The doctor performed all the usual tests, which were easy enough. He checked the cuts and scratches, the sores on her feet. Felt of her stomach. “When was the last time you ate, Charlie?”

“Yesterday. I got a squirrel, but I'm not very good at cooking them. I only ate half of it because it was burnt.”

Bass had taken a seat in a chair nearby. “How'd you get the squirrel?”

“Snare. Mom found this old book that's supposed to be for boys, but she said it would have a lot of useful things I'd need to know. Like what kind of plants you can eat and stuff. There were instructions and Dad helped me with it until I could do it right.”

“And you had your knife.”

Charlie went very still and very quiet. She had been starting to open up, relaxing and feeling safe. Now she looked... guilty. 

Miles reached out and stroked her hair. “Charlotte, where did you get the knife?”

“From the man.” Her voice was soft. 

“What man?”

She swallowed and looked at him with eyes that clearly said she was afraid he'd turn from her if she answered. “He was a bad man. He tried to touch me like grown ups aren't supposed to. And I told him to stop! But he wouldn't. The knife was in his belt and I grabbed it and stabbed him in his leg. He dropped me and I cut him on his face, liked this,” she said, tracing a tiny finger over Miles' face from above one eye and diagonally to the nose. “Then I ran.”

Miles tamped down his anger that someone would have tried something like that with her. Pedophiles were on his personal list of the types of people he preferred to kill on sight. He was going to reassure her that it was all right but she suddenly blurted out, “Mom killed a man. Shot him in the back because he threatened to hurt me if we didn't give him our food. She said it wasn't wrong because it was okay to hurt someone if they try to hurt you first, so I shouldn't get in trouble for cutting that man!”

The doctor was putting his items back into his bag, his expression sympathetic as he looked towards General Matheson. Most sane people feared this man, but if they could see him now, half laying on a bed listening to the fears and traumas of a tiny, starved girl, watch him as he reached out with a battle scarred hand to smooth away her tears, they would wonder if the legend wasn't based in fantasy. 

“You did nothing wrong, Charlie. You did exactly right, and I am so proud of you. You are a brave and resourceful young girl and I am going to do everything I can to make sure you stay safe from now on.”

 

“You're not mad at me?”

“Not in the least.” He bent over and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Now, Bass and I need to step outside to speak to the doctor, but I'll just be a shout away. Okay?” Slender fingers gripped more tightly around his old dog tags as she nodded.

They shut the door but kept their voices low. “What are we looking at here?”

“Malnourishment, of course, but not for so long that most if not all damage can't be reversed. She is essentially starving and her body already started cannibalizing muscle tissue for fuel. She'll need to start off on a liquid diet, gradually building up to soft solids and eventually to normal, solid food. Fortunately she's been out there for the summer and fall, so she's evaded most of the damage we'd see from exposure. I'll have an ointment sent over for her cuts and another for her feet. I'd recommend she stay off of them as much as possible until they're healed. Other than that, she's on her last reserves. Expect her to sleep most of the time for the next few days. Let her go at her own pace. She can eat when she wakes, but make sure to get plenty of fluids into her when she is.”

Harris removed his glasses. “General, I don't need a scale to tell she's underweight. Once her stomach is strong enough to handle food again, that should right itself. However, there is bound to be some mental trauma. I wouldn't be surprised if she has nightmares or flashbacks. With her age and size I'd rather not prescribe anything sedating, but if it gets to be too much for her we can revisit that. With your permission I would like to return in about three days to check her progress.”

“Be glad to have you. Thanks for coming out in this weather.”

“My pleasure, General. She's a remarkable little girl. Her making it all the way here on her own like that, makes a man believe in God again. Good night, Mr. President, General.”

They waited until the doc was gone before Miles leaned back against the wall. “Three fucking states, Bass. Three states with nothing but a map and what she learned from what sounds like an ancient copy of a Boy Scout's hand book. Anything could have happened to her. Something _did_ happen to her.”

“She's here with us, now. Miles, this is why we started the Militia, remember? For the ones like her. The ones that got left behind and abandoned, or couldn't fight for themselves. That's why you wanted to fight back and do something to try and bring civilization back to this country.”

“I know. It's just... we needed them, Bass. Ben knew the blackout was coming. We needed him and now he may not even be alive any longer.”

“We don't know that, yet.” Bass sighed and rubbed Mile's shoulder. “Look, it's late, you can't possibly carry her next door in the rain now that you've got her cleaned up and we're all tired. Crash here tonight. We'll figure out how you're supposed to raise a kid tomorrow.”

“You're right. I should probably stay in here with her anyway, in case she has problems.” Miles opened the door to the bedroom and they found Charlie already fast asleep, still wrapped in the last of the towels they'd used. “We should probably put her in something at least.”

“I'll go get another shirt.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a prompt for you guys: I wanna see Conscript!Charlie. She keeps bouncing around in my head, but I'm having trouble settling on a single idea. There's so much you can do with her. Is Miles still with Monroe, or has he bolted? Does she give her real name when asked or is she clever enough to give a fake on and hide from her uncle right within his own militia? Does Ben journey to Chicago to ask his brother for help in getting her back? Does she keep her head down and try to blend in with the several thousand other soldiers or does she decide to make the best of the situation and excel as a soldier? Does she inadvertently become a general's favorite plaything (and I realize I didn't say which general) whenever their paths cross and what consequences does that bring about? The possibilities are near endless! Someone get to writing, right now!

** Eleven months after Charlie's arrival **

Bass was walking along with Jeremy, returning from a field mission to check the status of the border between the Republic and Georgia. He was tired, dirty, hungry and not in the mood for any shenanigans.

That might also have included the rustle from an apple tree growing in one of the park areas between the stables and his home. The fall apples were ready for harvest, but that wasn't scheduled for a day or two. Training made him glance that direction to make certain it wasn't anything more than the wind and he spied the real reason. Jeremy almost missed the General veering off but caught up.

“Charlotte Matheson!” There was another rustle, something that sounded a lot liked “shit” and then a girl (who was ten now, thank you very much) popped out. Upside-down. 

“Bass! You're home!” Her smile was bright.

“Yeah, I'm home.” He walked closer. “What are you doing?”

“Getting an apple.”

Bass glanced to the left and right where there were several ripe apples that would have been well within her reach from the ground. “Why do you need to climb the tree to get an apple?”

“Because I want that one.” She half curled back upwards and pointed. Bass leaned over and followed the line of her finger to an apple at the very top of the branches. 

“Why that one?”

“Because it has the most sunshine in it.”

That clearly was child-logic and he was too tired to try and unravel it. “And just how do you think you're going to get it?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed as if grown-ups were the least intelligent people on the planet and pulled herself back. Bass watched as she started to climb from limb to limb. They'd found out something about Charlie once her feet had healed and she had started getting stronger. The girl got into the most unexpected places and could vanish quicker than they could blink. Maybe she learned that skill on her journey or maybe she was part monkey. They weren't sure. He continued to watch until she got high enough she could reach the apple, twisting it off the branch.

“Well done, Smarty Pants. Now how are you going to get back down with it?”

She seemed to consider this for a moment, then stuck the apple in her mouth, securing it with her teeth before starting to come back down the same way. She got to the lowest limb and jumped down, obviously proud of herself. 

Bass smiled. “Thank you, I'm starving.” He reached out and pulled the apple from her mouth, biting into it while she gave him a look of outrage.

“That's mine!”

He pointed up at the tree. “You can climb up and get another one. Get one for your uncle while you're at it.” He took another bite and walked away, exchanging an amused smile with Jeremy as he did.

Miles was going over reports as he walked in. “I think we can officially declare Charlotte fully recovered.” 

Miles looked up as Bass sprawled in a chair. “Yeah, we knew this.”

“In fact, we should probably figure out some kind of activity to keep her entertained. She's up in the top of that apple tree across the street.”

“And you left her there?”

“I made sure she could get up and down, first.”

“And stole her apple?”

“I'm hungry.”

“You also stink.”

“Love you, too, Brother.” The doors opened and Charlie came in, her hair tangled and carrying a couple of leaves. She walked in that half-run children use to hand her uncle an apple, her's already half-eaten.

“Thank you, Charlie.” Miles ignored the teeth marks and biting in. “So, how'd it go?”

“We're still at an uneasy truce and standstill. I get the feeling that there's some internal problems in Atlanta, but until we hear from our intelligence asset there we have nothing solid. More of a gut feeling right now.”

“What's an intelligence asset?” Charlie had managed to set herself atop a buffet rather than one of the chairs. She was also apparently trying to see just how much of her apple she could get off the core.

“It's a person whose job it is to be nosy.”

Bass grinned. “For this house, it's you, because you're always spying on everyone.”

“I don't spy!” She faced him with her chin lifted indignantly. “People just don't check to see where I am before they start talking.”

“Right, because it makes perfect sense for you to be on top of a book case.”

“I was reading.”

“That's why your uncle has chairs.”

The girl shrugged. “What's the difference?”

More child-logic. Bass really couldn't handle it today. “You think you could leave us alone for a bit. We have official things to talk about.”

“But you just got here!” Her expression clearly stated that asking her to leave was the height of being unfair.

“And he'll be here tomorrow. You can pester him, then. Scram.” 

Charlotte gave a huff to prove just how very put upon she was feeling and lept down from the buffet. She then spun on her heel and marched right out of the room. Her posture made it clear to both men that they were not in her favor at this time.

“She gets more like you every day.”

Miles scowled. “Me? You're the one who pulls that stunt. Stop teaching her bad behaviors.”

Bass grinned. “Seriously, we do need to find something constructive for her besides her school work. Mitchell taught kids as well as adults pre-Blackout. We can have him work with her.”

“Martial training?” Miles pondered it. “It does have multiple benefits and should teach her some discipline.”

“Without making her mad at you.”

“That is a bonus. Let her be pissed off at Mitchell. I'll send for him tomorrow.” Miles pushed back from his desk. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“We met up with Tom's unit while we were out. They have a lead on Ben and Rachel.”

“What kind of lead?”

“Not much, but they found a survivor of some would-be slavers. He said that he was taken about a year ago along with some other people. Three of them were a couple and their young son. A son who had health problems, his breathing became difficult when upset. The description of the adults does fit Ben and Rachel.” Bass helped himself to the decanter of whiskey on Miles' desk. “According to the survivor, Rachel managed to get loose and killed the guards where they were being held. Once they got the holding pen open it was everyman for himself. Like I said, not much, but it is an indication that they are alive. Tom is heading out in the direction where the escape happened.”

Miles ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn't expecting to have to do any face-to-face work today, so he hadn't bothered with the usual pomade to keep it slicked back rather than cutting it. “Let's not tell Charlie. I don't want to get her hopes up. Plus, we don't know how cooperative my brother is going to be when we do find him, given his past habit of picking up and running whenever we get close.”

“Agreed. So, I gather since you told her she can pester me tomorrow, I get to put up with the little demon tomorrow?”

“Yep. She's all yours. You're all she talks about when you're gone. I think you've got a crush.”


	4. Chapter 4

** Eighteen Months Later **

“Keep your elbow in, and watch your stance. You're leaving yourself wide open.”

“Yes, Sir.” Charlie corrected herself and watched Bass for an attack. The swords were only wooden practice ones, but they stung like a bitch when they hit. She was going to have some impressive bruises in the morning. 

That's how Miles found them, with Bass running Charlie through practice drills. He leaned against the door frame, arms folded as he watched. Her brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as she tried to determine where Bass was going too strike next. She was hopelessly outclassed, but she was a quick learner. 

Miles smiled as she blocked an incoming attack. “What's this I hear about you breaking Ben Stark's nose at school today?”

Charlie tried attacking Bass. He blocked it easily. “He tried to kiss me.”

“So you broke his nose?”

“Yep. Ouch!” Bass landed a solid thwack against her side.

“Elbow in! If you don't listen to me, I can't teach you anything. Ben's that kid two years older than you, right?”

“Yeah, and he thinks he's some kind of (thwack) Adonis (thwack).”

“Adonis?” Mile's brows went up. “Someone's been raiding my library again. Got to the Greek section from the sound of it.”

“You should let me (thwack) carry a sword to school.”

“Oh, that'd be a great idea. Then I'd have my officers complaining about you cutting off body parts when boys try to kiss you. I already get enough push back about how I'm raising you as it is.”

“I wear those stupid dresses, don't I?” Her eyes were narrowed, a clear sign she was plotting something. Bass grinned back, waiting to see what she'd try. “And the shoes. You ever wear girl shoes? They pinch!” She dropped down and sent her wooden blade between Bass' legs and twisted to the side in an attempt to bring him down. It worked, kind of. Unfortunately for her, Bass knew how to roll with the punches and she somehow managed to get rolled up into a ball and unable to get out of it.

Bass laughed. “Extra points for originality, but you should try that one someone your own size and a little less skilled.” Charlie glared up at him. “Did you just growl at me?”

“Ben totally had that punch coming.” Master at evasion, that was their Charlie. “I'm not going to apologize.”

“He has two years on you. At twelve, that's a big difference. You don't need to apologize.”

“Uhm, Bass?”

“Calling it like I see it.” Bass let Charlotte back up and let her get her sword back. “The boy has almost thirty pounds of muscle on her and at least seven inches. Actually I'm surprised that he's willing to admit that he got his ass kicked by a girl.”

“What's my being a girl have to do with anything?” She took up her stance, getting ready.

“It's a guy thing.” Bass grinned as he watched her roll her eyes. They used that excuse a lot. Charlie had eventually given up calling them on their bullshit.

** Two Days Later **

Jeremy was enjoying a rare day off. He'd gotten a couple of drinks at a bar and was taking a pleasant stroll through the park when he spied a familiar form. Charlotte was walking across the quad, her school books clutched to her chest and the blazer to her school uniform knotted around her waist like a makeshift bustle. She looked upset.

Now, he was rather fond of the kid, and if anyone poked around a bit they might have learned that he had put her up to some of her more daring pranks. He certainly didn't like to see her upset, so he changed direction and made a bee line for her. “What's up, Princess. I didn't think school let out for another couple of hours.”

Charlie looked up at him. She'd been crying. That wasn't good. “Hey, what's wrong.”

“I don't want to talk about it. It's gross.” She hugged her books tighter. “I need to get home.”

“Okay. Let's get you home.” He tried to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder but she flinched from the touch. She hadn't shied away from him like that since she first wandered into the city. “Easy. Are you hurt? Did you get into another fight?” She shook her head, lips clamped together. “I'm no expert, but if Miles gets in and you're still this wound up, he's likely to blow his top. Maybe I can help.”

“You can't help, you're a boy!”

Now, Jeremy didn't have kids of his own, but he'd had siblings at one time. One of them had been a sister. Almost twelve, not wanting to talk about it because it's 'gross' and him being useless because he was a 'boy' pretty much equaled a very uncomfortable topic. “Ah.” He glanced down at her. “Someone explained all this to you, right? And please tell me it was someone other than your uncle. He's good at a lot of things, but I don't think he'd really do well with the Birds and Bees talk.”

“He asked Jason's mom to do it.” Her shoulders were hunched. “But she said it usually happened when your older. I'm not old enough!”

“I think sometimes it happens a little younger.” He grimaced. “I take it that's why your wearing your jacket like that.”

“It's everywhere.” That came out as a whisper. “Everyone saw it.”

Ouch. That had to be mortifying to someone her age. “Well, it's not the end of the world. And you got out of class early. So why don't we get you home. You get cleaned up, I bet the maids have some rags for you to use, you switch into some civvies and then you and I will hit that shop at the other end of the square. The one where they make ice cream. My treat.” She didn't answer right away. “I hear they managed to get some peaches in from Georgia. Ever had peach ice cream?”

“No.”

“You'll love it. I promise. Come on.”

He waited patiently for her to get tidied up, letting the women of the house staff fuss over her. Charlie would shoo them away when she'd had enough. She was like that. Eventually a clean and significantly less agitated Charlotte came back downstairs. Jeremy gave her a smile and held out his elbow as though escorting a young lady to an important event. She giggled a bit and took the offered arm, letting him escort her from the house. He was only one of a handful of people with the clearance to do so. Miles had some fairly hefty security measures on the girl. He was going to hit the ceiling when he found out the school let her leave without waiting for a guard to walk her.

The sweet shop did indeed have peach ice cream. They also had raspberry and peppermint. Charlotte asked for peach and peppermint both and Jeremy indulged her. Apparently Tom's wife was also trying to teach her table manners, because she was taking great care in being lady-like. There had been some push back from some of the officers' wives that two generals probably weren't the best influence over a girl, likely stemming from the number of fights Charlie got into. Miles had been trying to soften that somewhat, though there was still something of the wild little thing who had wandered into Philly in the middle of a storm just there under the surface.

“What did I tell you? Good, huh?”

Charlie nodded. “Delicious. Thank you, Captain Baker.”

“Hey, it's just Jeremy when your uncle isn't around to fuss about it”

She giggled. “Thank you, Jeremy.”

“After this, we can go over to that toy store a few doors down. See if they have something that suits your fancy.” When she didn't respond, he looked up from his ice cream to find her staring out the window across the way. Her face had gone ghostly white. “Hey, what is it?”

“That's him.” Her voice was very soft, almost inaudible. Jeremy looked the direction she was staring to see several people milling about the trading post. People brought in furs and wild game they had caught to trade it for gold. 

“Who's 'him'?”

“The man who tried to hurt me. The man I got the knife from.”

Now, Jeremy knew the basics. He knew that Charlotte had shown up with a knife she had apparently taken off of a would-be molester. His eyes sharpened. “Which one, Charlie?”

“The big one, with the eye patch.” 

Jeremy looked again. There was a bear of a man who seemed to walk with a limp. His head was bald and he was wearing a grimy eye patch. “Are you certain he's the same guy?” She nodded, slowly at first, but then with more force. “All right, stay here.”

Jeremy stepped outside of the shop and looked until he saw a group of Militia soldiers in uniform. He waved them over and spoke to them in low tones, pointing out the man across the square. The soldiers nodded and headed off in that direction.

He walked back into the shop. Charlie's eyes were now on him, her expression one of questions. “What did you do?”

“We're just going to have him brought in for some questions. I think your uncle would like to have a few words with him. You about finished with your ice cream?” She looked at her bowl, there were a few bites left but it looked like she didn't have the appetite for any more. She pushed the bowl away as Jeremy placed some Militia bills on the table. “Let's go check out that toy store, shall we?”

** Eleven-Thirty pm, same day **

Bass didn't say anything as they rode towards the jail. Miles wasn't in the mood to talk, not after Jeremy had filled them in on his afternoon with Charlotte. Her starting her menses a year or two too early wasn't a big deal, it was something they were going to have to deal with anyway. It was her identifying the man who had tried to molest her on her way to Philly that was the big problem. Bass knew his friend well enough to know when Miles was at his worst. It was better to just let the man be.

They'd left Jeremy at Miles' house. He'd volunteered to stay in case the girl's nightmares returned. A familiar, trusted face would be helpful if they did. For a confirmed bachelor, the man was great with kids. 

Strausser was already there when they arrived. They'd sent ahead for him and asked him to wait until they got there. He looked curious as to why he was here but the look on Miles' face brought an expectant smirk to his own. “Political prisoner?”

“No, this one is personal.” The three men walked down the hallway to where the man was being held. The guard opened the door and Miles got his first sight of creature. Had he been this large when Charlie had run into him? He was a bear of a man and Charlotte had been so tiny and underfed when she'd reached them. There was an angry, puckered scar that poked out from under his eye patch from both directions, recalling to mind what Charlie had said about cutting him to get away. A fierce stab of pride shot through Miles' gut at seeing that.

“I'm Miles Matheson, Commanding General of the Monroe Militia. This is President Sebastian Monroe and this is Sergeant Strausser.”

“Eb Johnson. Do I get to know why I'm here? Your boys didn't tell me squat when they hauled me in.”

Miles reached into his coat and pulled out the knife. He'd never even wiped it clean of the blood and grime from when he took it from Charlie. He dropped it onto the floor at Johnson's feet. “Do you recognize that?”

The man peered at it. “Used to be mine. Some little bitch stole it from me a few years back.”

“Stole it? The story she tells is that you got too grabby and she had to defend herself.” The man looked a bit nervous. 

“I was just trying to help her. She was on her own.”

“Help her? Did helping her require getting into her panties, or did you consider that fair payment for your 'help'?” Miles reached up and snatched the eye patch away, snapping the string holding it to his head. Underneath was a gaping whole where the other green eye should have been. “She told me she cut you there, but look at that. Only nine, working on sheer guts and determination and she managed to take your eye. What do you think of that, Strausser?”

The sergeant had quickly caught on. Rumors travel quickly in an army, and everyone in the Militia pretty much knew how the general's niece had come to join them by now. “Natural talent. And she didn't even have the right tool for the job. I would have used a pick.”

“This is all about that little slut?!”

Miles punched him, hard enough to send the man down. “Her name is Charlotte. Charlotte Matheson if you want to get technical.” Johnson's skin went chalk white. “My brother's first born, and when her path had the unfortunate event of crossing yours, she was on her way here, looking for me.”

Miles kicked the knife out of the man's reach. “I detest pedophiles. I won't tolerate them in my own ranks. I kill them myself when I find them. I'd dearly love to kill you, but given that this is Charlotte, that would make it over too soon. That's why I asked Strausser here. We don't usually let him indulge himself. Not fully, anyway, but I'm making an exception in your case.”

Bass glanced at the sergeant. He couldn't blame Miles, not in the slightest. He knew about his friend's feelings towards those who preyed on children, and he supported them by not saying anything against them. There were some lines that should not be crossed, after all. “Sergeant, take as much time as you like. Let us know when you're done with him. I have a feeling the general will be sticking close to home for the next few days.”

“Yes, Sir.” Strausser sat his bag of tools on a spare bunk and opened it. He started setting out his knives, one by one, their perfectly clean and honed blades glinting in the subdued light.

“Miles, we should probably get back. No need to keep Baker from his own bed all night.”


	5. Chapter 5

** Ten Months Later **

Charlie stood in front of Bass' desk, twitching a bit in place. He was watching her with those pale blue eyes, one elbow propped on an arm of his chair and his head resting against his hand. He hadn't said anything for a while. A very long while.

“You know,” she started out hesitantly, “we could just _not_ tell Uncle Miles. It could be our secret.” She gave him a hopeful smile.

Bass' brow raised. “You think so? You don't think Tom or Julia will mention it to him?”

There was that. “They might not.”

“Or the headmaster at the school?”

“Maybe not?” She was pretty sure he was laughing at her, just not out loud. “I mean, what's the big deal?”

“You blew off history class to make out with Jason Neville in a supply closet. That's the big deal.”

“She did what?”

Charlie spun around with a gasp. She hadn't heard her uncle come in. “Hi.” Well, that was weak.

Bass decided to be helpful. “Ditched history for a make out session.” He offered up the note from the headmaster to Miles. Her uncle gave her a stern look as he strode towards the desk to take it in hand. 

“With Tom's boy? You're kidding me!”

Charlie put her fists in her hips. “And what's wrong with Jason?”

“His parents are Tom and Julia Neville. Not exactly the kind of people you'd want for in-laws.”

“In-laws?” She blinked her eyes, then rolled them. “It was just _kissing!_ ”

Miles was reading the note. “Since when does he have to put his hand under your blouse just to kiss?” She gave a wordless yelp. “And you skipped class.”

She folded her arms with a sneer. “Oh, like you two never cut class.” Miles looked up and arched a brow at her attitude. She dropped her arms and came back to semi-attention.

“Go to your room. I'll be up to talk to you later.” Miles watched her as she hurried out of the room. It wasn't until the door to the office was closed and there had been enough time for her to get out of earshot that his best friend cracked up laughing. “This isn't funny, Bass.”

“The hell it isn't! This is progress.”

Miles turned to looked at the president with askance. “How is this progress?”

 

Bass shrugged. “Because it was barely three months ago we were still getting notes about her breaking bones and knocking out teeth.”

“I'd rather have the broken bones and missing teeth.” Miles looked over the note again with disgust. “Jason Neville of all people.”

“He's a good looking boy. Just because his parents are barracudas doesn't mean he'll grow up to be one. I can see where a girl might want to sneak off into the supply closet with him.” Miles growled and tossed the note down. “Come on, Miles, we were doing the same thing when we were her age.”

“It's not the same, Bass.”

“How so?”

“We couldn't get pregnant.”

“Uh, Brother, I'm pretty sure kissing isn't going to get her the family way.”

“Like you said, we were doing the same thing when we were her age. Kissing escalates.”

“Fine.” Bass got up to pour them both a drink. “Then we send for Miranda to come and have a talk with her.”

“Miranda?” Miles accepted the glass automatically. “Miranda, the madame of the brothel most of the officers use? That Miranda?”

Bass shrugged again. “Yeah.”

“You want to have a whore come talk to Charlie?”

“Who better to tell her how not to get pregnant?”

“I'd rather she not do the things that lead to getting pregnant.”

“Okay, I'll send word to the blacksmith that we need him to make her a chastity belt.”

“I've considered it.”

This was getting to be too much. “Miles, she's thirteen. A teenager. Worse, she's a teenage girl. Things are only going to escalate from here. Look at what our men with teenage daughters go through.” Bass topped Miles' drink off after his friend had downed half of it. “All we can do is give her the knowledge and tools she needs to survive to adulthood. Honestly, can you think of two men better qualified to tell her what teenage boys are after than us?”

“This would be so much easier if she were a boy.”

“But she's not. Not her fault, we just have to deal with it. Unless you want to send her to a convent.” Miles didn't respond. Bass looked up and noted his friend's expression. “We are _not_ sending her to a convent. You trained a whole damn militia, Miles. Act like you've got a pair. I don't want it getting around that my commanding general is terrified of raising a teenage girl.”

Miles grumbled a bit and downed his drink. “Just saying this would be easier if she were a boy.”


	6. Chapter 6

** Thirteen months later **

“You are _not_ wearing that!”

Miles frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “It’s your _uniform._ ” She threw her arms out wide and gave him a look that clearly said she thought he was thick. “You’re not taking her out to dinner in that!”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s what you wear every day! You should make an effort to look nice for her!”

“She already knows what I look like.” His niece sighed and held her head in her hands as though he were giving her a headache. Honestly, who was the adult here? “Okay, fine, what should I wear?”

She took over his closet and dug out a pair of slacks from the horrid dress uniform he usually avoided wearing, but instead of the rest of the pieces she found a nice shirt dyed a deep red. It’d been a gift from Bass when his friend had made a vain attempt to get him to ‘unclench’ as he’d put it. He didn’t know what the big deal was. The dark and brooding thing worked for him. Always had.

He let his niece boss him around, reminding himself not to laugh at her when she set herself furiously to shining his best boots until they shone. She was taking this far more seriously than he’d realized. He knew she liked Nora, and the bounty hunter liked her, but he hadn’t known that his niece had become that fond of the woman.

Maybe he’d underestimated how important having a woman around was to a young girl. Had he and Bass screwed up by remaining bachelors? Perhaps one of them should have given her an aunt to turn to.

Once she deemed him ‘suitable for the public’, he thanked her and left the room to head downstairs. A guard had already told him that Nora was there, she arrived about fifteen minutes ago. The reversal of the norm wasn’t lost on him, nor was the beautiful black slip of a dress that hugged his date’s curves. The sight of her stopped him in his tracks as effectively as a punch in the gut. 

“He’s ready.” Tiny hands set themselves firmly in the middle of his back and shoved him forward. Miles saw Nora force away a smile.

“Thank you, Charlie. You look very handsome, Miles.”

“Thanks. You, too. I mean… you look great.” Damn, he sounded like an idiot.

“Her coat.” It was a harsh whisper by his side. When he didn’t respond, Charlie stomped on his foot to get his attention. “Help her with her coat,” she hissed.

He did, telling himself that there was no reason to be nervous. He’d hung out with Nora plenty of times. They’d gone at one another like a couple of bunnies more than once. He’d just thought it’d be nice to have a dinner like a regular pair of people, though Charlotte had absolutely refused to let it happen in the house. She’d insisted that he take Nora out on a ‘proper date like a lady’. Then she’d punched him in the arm when he’d made a comment that Nora was hardly a lady.

Still, this seemed important to Charlie. And Nora really did look stunning. Maybe it’d be nice to go out and about with a beautiful woman who was smart and witty and actually held his interest so they could have a real conversation instead of just hooking up with some brainless bit of fluff he felt he had to sneak out on the sly so they didn’t wake the teenager down the hall.

Miles picked up Nora’s coat and helped her put it on.

~***~

“No, you idiot! Pull her chair out for her!” 

“Charlie, should we really be doing this?”

“Well, we can’t very well go down and have dinner in the restaurant. I’m just glad we’ve got a good angle.” She peered thru the binoculars Jason had brought with him, her eyes glued on the couple inside the building across the street. Nora was gorgeous. She hoped that she developed curves like that some day. For the moment she was till a little lean to be a stunner like the bounty hunter. 

She wished she had that thick, dark hair, too. Blonde hair was all well and good, but it was too fine and never hid dirt well.

She couldn’t hear them from here, but she knew her uncle well enough to know when he was screwing up. “Don’t treat her like a soldier! Ask her for her opinion.”

“Eh-hem.” The two teens snapped their heads back towards the sound of someone clearing their throat. Bass’ head was poking up from the hatch that lead to the roof of the building, one brow arched. “And you two would be…”

Jason started to scramble up, but he stopped when Charlie shot him an irritated look. “Watching Miles screw things up.”

Bass frowned. “Really?” He clambered up and squeezed himself between the kids. “Move over, Cadet.” He took the binoculars from Charlie and spied Miles and Nora. “Wow… she’s hot. I mean, she’s always hot, but that dress is smoking.”

“I know! He didn’t even have the brains to pull her chair out for her.”

“Seriously?” 

“Didn’t you teach him anything?!”

“Apparently not.” Bass sighed and didn’t look up when he spoke to Jason. “Lay back down, Cadet. You’re so skittish you might fall off the roof. I’d rather not have to explain that to your father. I’m just here to make sure you guys don’t vanish inside one of the linen closets.”

Charlie punched the President of the Monroe Republic in the arm. “That was over a year ago!”

“All right, so now I have to worry about keeping you from vanishing inside your bedroom. I mean, I don’t care if you two sneak a kiss here and there, but if Miles thinks clothes might come off Jason might end up losing his Johnson.”

Jason made a choking sound. Charlie gave a horrified gasp before barking “BASS!”

Bass shrugged, still not looking away from his spying. “Hey, kid deserves to know just how dangerous canoodling with you can be. Go ahead and lay back down, Son. This looks like it’s probably going to turn out to be one hell of a comedy.”


	7. Chapter 7

** Fifteen Months Later **

“It’s normal, Sir. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Normal? She hasn’t said more than a half dozen words to either of us in the past week. How is that normal?”

The doctor gave him one of those patient, understanding smiles that always made Miles want to punch something. Or someone. “She’s fourteen. Her body is flooded with hormones and she’s trying to find her own identity. Every little thing is the end of the world to kids her age. This will pass.”

“God, but I’ve never missed electricity so much. At least when the lights were on she would be playing metal or something. Then the lyrics might give me a clue.”

Bass showed up, Baker and Neville with him. They pulled up short when they saw who was in Miles’ office. “Something wrong?”

Miles scowled and waved his hand. “No, apparently this sulk she’s been in is ‘normal’.”

Jeremy suddenly found the drapes very interesting. Tom gave a slight nod. “I imagine my son isn’t in a very good mood, either. They had become quite close.” The man refused to quail under the general’s glare. “Perhaps if she were to be encouraged to spend time with other girls her age?”

Bass snorted. “We’ve tried that a couple of times. She thinks girls her age are idiots who wouldn’t live a week on their own.”

“Given that she’s been able to take care of herself since she was nine, she may be setting the bar a little high.”

“True.” Bass thanked the doctor for his time and waited until the man had left. “Miles, we may have something that will cheer you up.”

“What?”

Bass cleared his throat to get Jeremy’s attention. The man nodded and stepped forward. “We’ve received intel that may lead us to Charlie’s parents.”

Miles scowled and poured himself a drink. “We’ve been chasing leads for years. They’ve all been a wash. “He downed the whiskey and bit back the grimace. “I don’t want to get her hopes up. I don’t want to put her thru that, only to have her crash when we find nothing.”

“That’s why we’ve never told her, Miles. Every time, we’ve kept it just amongst a few people. But still, we have to try.”

“Yeah, we have to try.” Miles sighed. “I’ll chase this one personally. I need to get away from all the angst.”

Bass nodded. “I was hoping you’d say something like that. This one takes things close to the Georgia border.” Miles gave him an irritated look and Bass grinned. “I need you to do a little hob knobbing with Foster while you’re out and about. You should take Nora with you. Make a holiday of it.”

“I fucking hate you.” Miles ignored the twitch at Neville’s lips. He’d long since learned to ignore Jeremy. He’d tried physically removing that smirk from his face before. It never worked. And Charlie was fond of the jackass.

~***~

There was a series of raps on her door.

“Go away!”

“Charlie, open the door.”

She glared at the heavy wood. “Go away, Bass!”

“Charlie, open the door or I’ll have it taken off the hinges.”

She made a sound that was half sigh, half moan, but got up from her large bed and opened the door. Bass was leaning against the frame. He was dressed down, meaning he’d ditched the uniform jacket and had the laces of his boots undone and was officially off duty for the night. “What?”

“Miles has gone on a run with Nora. I’d rather not eat alone. Besides, you should be above doing the whole ‘my life sucks’ sulk. That’s for children. You’re not a child.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Screw you.”

“You’re too young for me.”

Her face screwed up. “Eww!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a dirty old man. But, I’m a dirty old man who has your favorite meal downstairs and who lets you have whiskey when Miles is away.” He straightened away from the door and jerked his head towards the stairs. “Come on. The pouting doesn’t work on me. I perfected that shtick.”

He walked away without waiting for her. Charlie rolled her eyes and stomped after him. It was impossible for her to hold onto her anger, however, over a plate of fried chicken, buttery mashed potatoes and the promise of apple and honey pie for dessert. 

“So, where’d Miles go?” It was just her and Bass, so she ignored the table manners she used for everyone else to smooth ruffled feathers over how badly two war hounds like her uncle and Bass were doing in raising her. They were doing a perfectly fine job, as far as she was concerned. She had a warm place to sleep, plenty to eat and they encouraged her to learn useful things like hunting and defense.

“He and Nora are running a diplomatic mission to Georgia for me.” He snagged another piece of chicken, but noted that the girl on the other side of the table had gone still. “What?”

“Diplomacy? Miles? Do you want to start a war?”

Bass shrugged. “That’s why I told him to take Nora. She’ll keep him in line. She’s gotten good and managing him.” He heard her snort. “Now what?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby. I know how she ‘manages’ him.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, as far as Miles is concerned you are as innocent and pure as the freshly fallen snow, and you have no idea what s-e-x even spells.”

“He’s not that dumb.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a dad thing. Probably a big brother thing, too. I would have been the same why had my sisters lived long enough for me to face the idea of them dating. I would have scared the boys who came sniffing around shitless, but that would have been my right as the older sibling.”

“So why don’t you give me grief?”

“Doesn’t do any good to give you grief. It’s the boys we have to scare. Why do you think I was always giving Jason Neville such a headache. Sure, I could hide it behind ‘warning’ him what Miles would do, because people are more scared of him than they are of me, but I didn’t like him following you around like a love sick puppy, either.”

Charlie gaped at him. “Is that why he got sent to Carbondale?” Her voice started to get higher in octave.

“No, he was sent to Carbondale because his unit was going to Carbondale. He enlisted, Charlotte. Soldiers go where their units are sent. He knew that when he signed up.” Bass shrugged. “I wouldn’t send a whole unit into danger to kill one soldier. He’s a smart kid, but there’s a huge difference between fourteen and seventeen. It won’t be so big when you’re twenty and he’s twenty-three, but right now you’re too young to be getting that serious.”

Oh, for the love of… “Serious about what?! We’re just friends.” Bass leveled a look at her. “What?!”

Bass blinked, then dropped his chicken and shook his head. “And I thought Miles was clueless at times.” He rubbed his eyes. “Charlie, you may think of Jason as a friend, but trust me, he’s a lot more committed.”

“No, he isn’t.” 

“Yes, he is.” He shook his head. “Charlie, take it from someone who was a seventeen-year-old boy; Jason Neville wants more than friendship. Hell, you’re probably his spank bank material every night.” Her expression turned into one of disgust at the idea. “Hey, I don’t blame the kid. You’re still in your awkward phase and you’re still beautiful. Another couple of years and I’ll probably have to recruit a platoon of eunuchs to act as your personal guard. It’s not your fault; you come from good genes. Both sides of your family have beauty and brains. That’s a potent combination. I almost feel sorry for the young men you’re going to leave shattered in your wake as you get older. “

She scoffed. “That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

He smirked. “Give it another year or two, but I’ll be happy to leave that headache for your uncle.” He refilled her glass. “I’m content to be the fun one. Let Mr. McBroody Pants be the disciplinarian.”


	8. Chapter 8

_17 months later_

Everything had gone well in Georgia. Miles and Nora had even managed to get some time alone together. If nothing else he had at least returned in a better mood and found Charlotte in a better mood as well although that couldn't last of course.

Charlie wasn't sure what was more aggravating; being in a house with two hard-core soldiers or to be a 16-year-old girl in the middle of the Republic? In her opinion it was pretty much a tossup between the two. There was a price to be paid for being the niece of General Matheson. Whereas she might have better security than any other girl in the city, she also had less freedom. Sometimes it felt as though she couldn't even take a breath without her uncle getting a full twelve page report on it.

This definitely put a crimp in any chance of romance, which honestly was something a 16-year-old girl had a right to engage in. The closest she managed to get to even the most innocent of exchanges only happened when she managed to stumble across a young soldier who hadn't yet been clued in on the unspoken rules. Everyone who had been in the city for any length of time was just too afraid to even approach her.

Needless to say this sometimes made her more than a little bit cranky. It didn't help that President Sebastian Monroe seem to be enjoying himself thoroughly. In fact watching his ever surly general butt heads with his niece had become Bass' favorite pastime. When it became obvious that things were about to erupt, he would merely pour himself another glass of whiskey, leaned back in his chair and watch the explosions.

Both Charlie and Miles wanted to smack the smirk off the man's face.

"It's _ice cream_! How much trouble could I possibly get into while sitting in a shop eating ice cream in the middle of the day?”

“You want ice cream, we can go get ice cream! You are _not_ going for ice cream with that boy!”

Charlie threw her hands up with a frustrated growl. “You're being ridiculous!”

“I said 'no', Charlie! That's final!”

“ _What_ , pray tell, is wrong with him?”

“He's too old.”

“He's _nineteen_! That's only three years age difference!”

“Three years is a lot at your age!”

“Oh, and you didn't chat up sixteen-year-olds when you were nineteen. I know better! I asked Bass!”

Miles shot him a glare. He raised his hands, a glass still in the right one. “Hey, I'm not part of this. I'm just observing.” Bass gave his brother a positively cherubic smile. The General growled and turned back to his niece. 

“Charlotte, this isn't the same world as before the lights went out. There are no more cell phones. No more cars. The safeguards that would have helped ensure your safety don't exist any longer. I'm not comfortable with you being out of the house alone with some soldier.”

She blinked at him. “It's. Right. There!” She waved her hands at the windows, thru which the ice cream parlor was clearly visible across the green expanse of park. “You'd be able to see us from your desk!”

“I said 'no'! End of discussion!”

“But...”

“ _No_ , Charlie. Go to your room!” He punctuated the order with a wave of his arm. In answer, she stamped her foot with a growl and stalked off, slamming the stately oak door behind her.

Bass poured himself another drink, uncrossed his legs to cross them the other way, draped an arm over the back of the antique sofa and just smiled. Miles ran a hand through his usually well contained hair and glowered. “What are you smiling about?”

“I'm just enjoying this so much. And I'm grateful it was Charlie that made it here instead of Danny. You wouldn't have been nearly this much fun with a boy.”

“Really. And I suppose you think I should let her go.”

“Oh, I think you're being utterly ridiculous. She's sixteen, Miles. She's no longer thirteen and sneaking off to the broom closet. Sixteen-year-old girls have little romances. They sneak kisses and have ice cream with boys they like.”

“What do we even know about this kid?”

Bass pointed around his glass. “On your desk.”

Miles frowned and went over to his desk. There was a leather portfolio there that hadn't been there before he'd gone to review the house guard. He picked it up and opened it. “You had his record pulled?”

“The moment I heard about him. Good kid. Solid family. Enlisted when he came of age and has half his pay sent home before he even sees it.” Bass gave a shrug. “And not that bad looking. Had Tom look into him, too. No drunk and disorderlies, no string of girls and he doesn't frequent any of the cat houses.”

“We sure he's straight?”

“Now you're just reaching.” He shook his head at his brother. “Miles, unclench. You're smothering her. She's too much like you to take that for long. Let her breathe a little. Give her a chance to act like normal girl, at least a little bit. She already has to give up a lot of the things that other girls her age take for granted just because she's your niece and is at greater risk because of it.”

Miles was still scowling as he dropped the file back onto his desk. He said nothing as he snatched up the bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink.

He let her go on the little date.

To his relief, the little romance only lasted about a month.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Just a short update because the muse struck me._

It was Charlotte Matheson's seventeenth birthday. Unfortunately it coincided with a visit from Kelly Foster and her entourage to discuss a change in trade negotiations. As such, Bass had asked Julia Neville to plan the party that would be both diplomatically appropriate while giving full attention to the unquestioned princess of the Monroe Republic.

“How does Miles manage with the parental duties of having a teenage girl in the house?”

Bass grinned. 'Oh, as well as any man way over his head. He'd rather recruit and train soldiers than deal with dating or 'that time of the month'.” He smirked into his glass of wine. “I, for one, have been enjoying the hell of out it.”

Foster returned his smirk. “I was lucky enough to be graced with sons. I shudder to think of what comes with having a daughter. I remember what I was like at seventeen. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.”

“True. And Charlie is a remarkable young woman.”

Kelly held out her glass to be refilled. “Did she really make it all the way here over hundreds of miles when she was just a child?”

“She did. With only a old Boy Scout's field guide to help her. You should have seen her that first night, Kelly. Covered in dirt and mud, convinced that everyone was a danger, just a step away from being totally feral. If Miles could have gotten his hands on the people who attacked their camp, he would have torn them apart.”

“No luck in finding the other Mathesons?”

Bass sighed. “None. And not from lack of trying.” He refilled Kelly's glass. “Wouldn't that be a hell of a birthday present to give her.”

“I take it that instead she's getting that Kentucky warmblood you asked us to bring up with us. Lovely horse. Sweet temperament and steady.”

“Miles wanted something he could train not to freak out and throw her in a firefight but would remain under her control enough to escape.”

“I can understand that. For all that we've done to improve life in Georgia, we have our upstarts and trouble makers, too. They want to return to the way it was before, not understanding that we don't have the infrastructure to make that happen any longer.”

“Hell, Kelly, you and I both know that what the US was just before the Blackout wasn't what our forefathers built. It wasn't equality for all. We were the working schleps while the people who sat in DC had built in enough caveats and addendums to the laws that they were passing that they themselves were immune to those laws. You know there was a propsed law once that would have required anyone working a government job to submit to random drug screenings or lose their jobs, with termination being the result if you failed. Sensible, right? I mean, the military did it. Most private sector jobs did it. But when it go to the big guys to vote on it and they realized it included the senators and congressmen and not just the secretarial pool, they buried it. The ruling elite was filled with tax shirkers, adulterers, liars and crooks. They'd made themselves into their own upper class, exempt from the same laws and punishments as the common folk. Clinton gets a blow job from a starry-eyed intern in the Oval Office and it's his own business, but any CEO of a fortune 500 company who had done the same would have been brought up on criminal charges because he was a powerful man using that power to take advantage of some poor young girl.” Bass took a deeper drink of his wine. “Hell, maybe the whole thing needed too be pulled out by the roots and started over.”

“Do you think we're doing any better?”

“Fuck no. We're making screw up like anything else. I've got a militaristic dictatorship and everyone pretends they don't know about the slave labor you're using on those fields that produce so much food and cotton. The difference is, you don't just have minorities, you're using your plantations in lieu of prisons.”

“Maybe you should consider doing the same in your coal mines. Could produce production.”

“Too many explosives involved in mining coal. Not the sort of thing you want your criminal class to get their hands on.”

“Good point.”

The door opened and both leaders looked up to see Miles walk in with his usual heavy booted stride. “Madam President, you are looking lovely as ever.”

“Miles,” she ran her eyes over the tailored uniform and shinned boots, “ever the picture of an imposing military genius.” She tuned her face to offer a cheek to his kiss. “Monroe was telling me about your adventures in parenting.”

“I don't know what he's talking about. Charlie's amazing. If it weren't for her, who knows how the pair of us would have turned out.” He walked over and poured himself a whiskey. “How was the trip up?”

“Peaceful. Thank you for the escort at the border.” It was the language of diplomacy. Miles had sent Baker with a full platoon of armed soldiers to provide extra security for Foster and her entourage, even though she had been allowed to bring up a full platoon of her finest. 

“Imagine the embarrassment if something had happened to you on our watch. Besides, everyone likes Jeremy.”

“There is that. I was surprised to see he's still a captain.”

“No choice. Bastard keeps refusing to take a promotion.” Miles gave a shrug. “Says there's too much politics involved in anything over captain.”

That made Kelly laugh. “I have one or two of those in my own circle. All but indispensable but absolutely refusing to go any further up the ladder.”

Miles went to pour himself another drink, but Bass stopped him with a clearing of throat. “What?”

“Nothing. It's just that you are expected to dance with the birthday girl in a couple of hours.”

~***~

“She is lovely. I'm surprised that Miles doesn't have armed guards on her the full twenty-four hours.”

“He tried that. She threatened to start banging the guards.”

Kelly almost choked on the champagne. She'd traded for it with her European allies and had brought up several cases once she learned that her visit was coinciding with the Republic Princess' birthday. “I bet that went over well.”

“Considering she was a week out of being sixteen, she almost sent him into a heart attack.” Bass smirked as they watched Miles twirl his niece out on the floor with a grace and skill no one would have thought the old warhorse possessed. 

“So she's already figured out how to play him.”

“She had him the moment he first laid eyes on her back before the lights died. The night she showed up here was a major relief for both of us.”

“Some might think to use her against you.”

Bass cut off a chuckle. “That person might find it too costly. She's as good a fighter as Miles and myself combined. We made certain of it. It's also why she looks amazing in that dress. The girl is in excellent shape.”

“That much is obvious.”

There was a commotion in the hallway outside. Julia Neville's expression turned grim as she slipped away to see to it. No one disrupted one of Julia's perfectly planned events. It wasn't conducive to a long and productive life. The music died off as the voices outside rose, culminating in someone crashing through one side of the heavy double doors as they tried to stay clear of the guards. A man, bedraggled and wild eyed.

“I have to speak to Miles Matheson! I need to see him!”

Bass almost dropped his glass as he recognized the man in rags. “Ben?”

The dancers her stopped, everyone looking towards the party crasher. Charlie was still holding Miles' hand, her uncle having placed himself so that he could easily defend her if need be. Her blue eyes had gone wide in disbelief, but her choked voice cut through all the noise.

“Daddy?”


End file.
